Hello everyone! Welcome to my Harry Potter/Star Wars story. This story will (assuming I write that far) consist of five parts, starting here in TPM and continuing roughly until... well that would be spoilers, wouldn't it? Just FYI, this story is not using Disney Canon, instead, this is technically in the Legends continuity just so I can use the odd character and stuff from the EU, and avoid the dumpster fire known as the sequels. That being said I am most certainly not a lore master and will in all likelihood contradict lots of legends canon, so be warned.
Chapter 1: Force's Play
Force shuddered in her ethereal realm; the corruption was spreading, growing in power, and her own ability was waning. Despite her weakened state, she could see the tribulations to come, and it scared her. Her, the immortal, all-powerful Force was scared because, for the first time, she faced the unknown. An unknown that concealed the possible extinction of life and with it herself.
With every day that passed, the corruption grew and time marched on, draining her power and dragging her inexorably towards what might just be her doom. Her own had grown distant, defiant, or defective. So few, so very few, remained useful in a galaxy of so, so many, and that number only seemed to dwindle along with her own power.
But what to do? What even could she do? She had no more power to wield, no more avenues to explore, and no more influence to exert on the material world. Then, it clicked. If she didn't have any power she could use, then she needed someone with separate power to use on her behalf, someone different.
Force practically thrummed with excitement at the idea and began to gather her power for her first truly herculean effort in, well, aeons. She barely took notice of the panic her own experienced as she flexed her metaphorical muscles in preparation for this attempt, and after pausing for just a moment to give her actions one final consideration, she launched out into the vast emptiness that separated her from her siblings.
With the permission of each of her brothers and sisters she came across, she searched galaxy after galaxy, millions of them, but she found nothing that would fill her requirements; none of them were different. In her desperation, she even searched through what little remained of her long-deceased sister's galaxy, but seeing what had become of it (and seeing it as her likely future) only served to depress her further.
Dejectedly she returned completely to her own galaxy and continued brooding; the thought of the sheer emptiness of her dead sister's galaxy hung like a spectre at the back of her mind. Was there nothing she could do?
Then she felt one of her own die in his sleep, a regular, normally unremarkable occurrence, which gave Force an excellent idea. Death! Why didn't she try searching through the dead? Sure, she couldn't actually use any of them, most of the dead were entirely out of her grasp, but she could certainly communicate with them. For the second time, Force launched herself; but instead of going out among the stars, she pushed through dimensions to where her counterpart/twin-sister, Anti-Force, dwelt.
As Force was made of all life throughout her Galaxy, so Anti-Force was made of all of the dead. Unlike Force though, who was constantly in motion and planning for the future, Anti-Force was slow, and always thinking about the past; she was the Epimetheus to Force's Prometheus. Anti-Force spent her days guarding, guiding, and judging the dead, a job which left little room for thoughts of the yet-to-be-dead, or even less the yet-to-be-born, both of which fascinated Force. So, despite Anti-Force's gargantuan power (the number of dead in a galaxy only grew, after all), she, like all of her 'anti-' Brothers and Sisters, would not act in the world of the living.
Despite their opposing nature, Force and Anti-Force did have some form of affection for each other (as much affection as can be manifested by cosmic, super-sentient energy fields generated by the living and the dead, at any rate), and Anti-Force would have considered it a shame if Force faded; not only would that halt her own growth, but she would be lonely without her twin/opposite to talk to every few centuries. Unsurprisingly then, it took very little effort for Force to convince Anti-Force to allow her to search the dead for a hint of anything useful.
Force was surprised when she found something that might just be what she needed; the spirit of a young, human woman who was still 'living' as an outcast, even in the realm of the dead. Force herself nearly missed her; the woman had been dead for nigh on five millennia, but her connection to Anti-Force was nearly non-existent. From what Force could tell, the woman was from an entirely different universe and had been brought to her own by an experiment gone wrong. The woman had appeared in the cold darkness of space and therefore had died shortly after arrival.
Because of this, the woman had no connection to Force at all, nor to any of her siblings, which was nearly unheard of for any living (or ex-living) creature from their universe (bar, of course, those monsters who killed her sister); her pathic connection to Anti-Force was caused only by the amount of time the woman had dwelt in the land of the dead. What the woman did have, though, was a long-defunct connection to something different, something positively unique. Discovering that made Force shiver with such delight that Anti-Force kicked her out for disturbing the dead.
No matter, Force had what she needed, and with another gathering of her power (making her own all lightheaded by the sudden, rapid shifting) she launched herself for the third and final time, following what she could of the long-dead woman's path between universes.
She arrived to find herself in a galaxy much like her own, albeit smaller, near a world that positively teamed with life and was absolutely steeped in an unknown, mysterious energy that matched that of the dead woman. Before Force could even begin to investigate, she was attacked by said mysterious energy, which was surprisingly powerful considering the size of the galaxy it had to draw its power from.
When she didn't retaliate the other energy pulled back slightly and settled into containing her, and then in the span of three seconds (an embarrassingly long time for two sentient energy fields) they found a way to communicate. The local energy was called Magic and thankfully was intelligent. Force was happy, now the negotiations could begin.
-HPatF- -HPatF- -HPatF-
Harry Potter sighed in relief as the last few reporters were shuffled out of Hogwart's Great Hall, leaving only one of their number, a rather nervous-looking cameraman, behind. Surrounding Harry were all that remained of those he would consider his family: Hermione and Ron, Neville Longbottom and his girlfriend Luna Lovegood, Fred and George Weasley flanked by Angelina, Alicia and Katie, Professors McGonagall and Hagrid, Arthur and Molly Weasley, and finally Remus and Nymphadora Lupin and their baby boy Edward. None of the gathering looked particularly happy to be there though, in fact, they were either crying or scowling to a man.
A week: that was all the warning he had been given, and all the time he had to prepare. Now he was standing here dressed for war and loaded with a truly staggering amount of stuff. He was dressed in Hungarian Horntail hide armour with a thick black robe on his shoulders. Four trunks were clipped on his belt, each stuffed to bursting; according to Hermione the sheer amount of matter meant they likely wouldn't last more than a year without maintenance. It was also thanks to Hermione that one of his trunks were filled with nothing but books and other records. Lastly, an extendable bag also sat on one hip for short-term storage and the sword of Gryffindor was fastened to the other.
Now though, that week was up, and he was due to leave. The tense atmosphere was broken by Hermione, who had silent tears rolling down her flushed cheeks. "Harry, are you sure you remembered the b-"
"Yes, I'm sure. We've already quadruple-checked everything." Harry interrupted with a sad smile and emphasised his point by tapping the shrunken trunks attached to his belt. Hermione nodded shakily in response and turned to cuddle into Ron's side.
A minute passed in awkward silence, then, just as Harry opened his mouth to speak, he disappeared in a flash of white.
Blinking to clear his vision, Harry once again found himself in the other Hogsmeade train station. "Are you ready to go?" A melodious voice asked from behind him. Harry turned to see the woman that greeted him last time he was here, and immediately fell to one knee and bowed his head.
"Lady Magic," Harry gasped out; simply being in the presence of the woman simultaneously excited the power in his very bones and oppressed him with the palpable weight of her own unfathomable strength.
Magic laughed, causing Harry's eyes to briefly fog over before he shook his head to clear it. Her laughter was like the allure of a Veela, all be it less sexual and many orders of magnitude more potent. "Rise, my child." Harry stood up and, after a brief moment to steady himself, raised his eyes to meet the Lady's gaze.
The Lady Magic was, for lack of a better term, metallic. Her skin looked to be made of platinum faintly detailed with silver webbing, and the hair that cascaded in waves down to the small of her back was the exact colour and sheen of well-polished bronze. Her slim lips were the colour of rose gold, but the most startling of her features were her eyes, which were made of white diamonds with emerald irises and large opal pupils. Complementing her near-alien appearance, she wore a simple green tunic that constantly rippled despite the lack of breeze.
She arched a bronze eyebrow and smiled slightly. "Well? Are you ready?"
"I, uhm, yes. I'm ready."
Her smile widened and she held out her right hand palm up. A semi-transparent orb about thirty centimetres in diameter appeared floating just above her palm; It was white as snow, and coils danced around inside it like a plasma ball. Seeing Harry's confusion, Magic explained. "My gift to you, a magical core; it's nothing compared to your own, of course, but it's on the larger end of the spectrum all the same."
"But I already have a-"
"Yes, yes. It's quite clearly not for you. Now, time is short and I'm a busy woman, goodbye Harry." Magic closed her hand, making the sphere disappear with a pop, and flicked her wrist in Harry's direction, sending him flying.
The feeling of falling through ice-cold, rather viscous soup enveloped Harry as he sailed through the air for much longer than he should've had he simply been tossed across the train station. When he finally came to a stop, he found he was no longer on the platform at all, instead, he stood at the centre of a swirling mosaic of obsidian-black tiles that stretched all the way to the horizon. The sky above his head was pitch black and filled with innumerable strands of every colour Harry could imagine dancing to some unheard rhythm, intertwining and splitting seemingly at random but somehow forming patterns indescribably beautiful. As if sensing his presence, the strands began vibrating in unison like the cords of a harp, generating a rather echoey, distinctly female voice. "I am Force… Who are… you?" Harry was too dazed to speak, so the voice repeated the question. "Who… are… you?"
Harry swallowed audibly, and, after a moment, managed to find his voice. "I-I-I" he paused to swallow again, "I'm H-harry Potter." He closed his eyes to steady himself; much like the Lady Magic, the mysterious voice seemed to saturate the air with its power in such a way as to throw even the most skilled Occlumens off kilter. The hypnotic dance of the colourful strands above his head certainly didn't help matters.
"And what is… Harry Potter?"
"I… I'm a wizard."
The strands buzzed rapidly, causing a fair approximation of humming in thought. "A wizard? No… you're no mere wizard… What are you, Harry Potter?"
"I... uh…"
The voice laughed. "You, Harry Potter, are… different. You are the different… the whisper in the wind that becomes a hurricane… the drop in the ocean that becomes a tsunami… the spark that becomes an inferno… or not?... That's up to you, is it not?" She laughed again.
Two tendrils of colour, one emerald green and the other pure white, emerged from the latticework above and extended down to Harry's eye level. The white one curled around empty space before the magical core he had seen earlier appeared in its grasp; meanwhile, the green strand stopped itself about a foot in front of Harry's face. Harry watched it warily. "Uhh…"
The white tendril began to pull the orb upwards into the multi-coloured pattern in the sky. "Goodbye for now, Little Pebble. I cannot wait to see the landslide you cause… Or don't." Suddenly the green tendril shot forward into Harry's forehead; he stayed conscious just long enough for his eyes to widen in shock.
At that moment a shockwave went throughout the Galaxy; for a split second all life from the smallest bacterium to the largest rancor paused. Sentients from Coruscant to Kamino experienced a sudden shiver down their spine (or the biological equivalent of their given species). Sheev Palpatine dropped the drink he was holding and clutched his heart in shock at the sudden jerk in the force; using the excuse of feeling unwell he excused himself from the function he was attending and went in search of his master. Grand Master Yoda was startled out of his meditation, and nearly out of his chair, by that same shift. Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn felt the change just as he lunged to save the idiotic Gungan standing in his way, causing him to fall short and the same Gungan to be run over and killed by an MTT.
While most of the life in the galaxy ignored the odd feeling and went about their day, those with high force sensitivity instinctively knew the something about the Force itself had changed in some way, although none of them could say how or why.
-HPatF- -HPatF- -HPatF-
Harry Potter came to lying on his back with the sun shining directly into his eyes. He rubbed them and blinked rapidly to clear his vision as he rolled over and got to his feet. Leaning on a wall, he took a moment to take in his surroundings.
He was standing in an alleyway made of well-crafted orangey-brown stone overlaid with patches of flowering vines and topped by blue tile roofs. The architecture, what little of it he could see, had a very artsy, almost whimsical feel that Harry associated with the Greeks and Romans at their most decadent. Harry took a moment to check he was still armed and sighed in relief when he found the elder wand still in its holster, the Sword of Gryffindor in its shieth, and his invisibility cloak in its pouch on his back; an idle stroke also confirmed the resurrection stone was firmly lodged in the clasp of his cloak.
The sound of marching drew Harry's attention, so he went quietly over to one end of the alley and looked out into the street to observe the passing procession. In the centre was a young woman in a ridiculous black dress and an ageing man dressed in simple black and blue robes; they were followed by five women in orange robes, and behind them about a dozen men dressed in rather bulky leather armour. Surrounding the group of unusually dressed people were twelve light brown robots, each of which held a gun pointed in the vague direction of the humans. It didn't take a huge leap in logic to guess that the odd robots were keeping the people as prisoners. Harry started to inch back into the alley (not wanting to get involved in a conflict he knew nothing about) but stopped when he felt Force on the outskirts of his occlumency shields; she was urging him to act. What happened to letting me decide?
With an internal sigh, Harry drew the elder wand from his wrist holster, straightened his cloak, and walked out into the street in front of the procession, which immediately stopped in front of him. The robot closest to him turned its gun and aimed it at Harry before speaking in a language he didn't recognize; Harry arched his eyebrow in confusion. The humans in the procession watched on with bated breath, worry clear on their faces, as a random stranger armed with nothing but a twig faced down a battle droid.
The robot repeated itself and raised the gun to emphasise its point; the message was clear, get out of our way. Instead of complying, Harry whipped his wand up and sent a severing charm at the robot's neck; he didn't even wait for it to fall before he began sending more severing charms at the others. "Get down!" he shouted at the humans, who were standing between him and the last three robots.
Whether or not they understood him he didn't know, but his shout seemed to bring them out of their shock as they either dropped to the ground or dove for weapons dropped by the already felled robots. The three remaining robots finally caught on to what was happening and each loosed a laser-bolt, all of which missed; Harry was able to hit two more before the final one shot again and hit him in the shoulder, knocking him flat onto his back.
Recovering quickly, Harry rolled to his feet and took aim at where the last robot should be, only to see one of the leather-clad men had already shot it. He stood and rolled his shoulder, feeling only a light stinging; visual inspection confirmed that whatever strange projectile these guns used, it had been stopped by his dragon-hide armour and left only a dent and a bruise.
He looked up to see the entire group of now free humans watching him warily; those who now had guns were aiming them at him. The woman in black, the elderly man, and a single leather-clad man with dark skin approached followed by the five women in orange who formed a semi-circle behind them.
The woman, who Harry could now see was also wearing an inordinate amount of makeup, started talking to him in a language he didn't understand. The language was very harsh, almost crude sounding, and very monotone in pronunciation. Seeing Harry's lack of response the woman turned to the elder gentleman, who also tried to speak to him using the same coarse language with a bit more force.
Harry shook his head, "I can't understand a word you're saying." Hearing him speak something other than their own language, both parties frowned; before any further communication could be attempted, everyone's attention was diverted by two men in brown robes jumping down from a house into the street. The two newcomers walked up to the still very confused group before offering the woman in black a shallow bow and talking animatedly with her and the elderly man, and, after the two in brown gave Harry a cautious once over, the whole group turned down the alleyway Harry had appeared in and left. With a shrug, Harry vanished the remains of the robots before jogging after them.
AN:
There we have it, chapter one, I hope you guys enjoyed it. The pairing(s) I have planned for this fic is Harry/Padme and Harry/Aayla, although neither of these will come into play until part two at the earliest, I'm also considering adding Ahsoka when she's old enough, but I'm undecided on that and it won't be for a good long while anyway.